Denizen
by emeraldine087
Summary: Harry Potter decides to return to Hogwarts to finish the 7th year he'd had to miss. With Voldemort defeated, everybody just wants some routine to fall back on-Draco Malfoy included. Draco, for lack of any options, musters what little will he has to return to Hogwarts in search of redemption; he still doesn't know where his new house, housemates & study partner figure in the mix...
1. Prologue

_**denizen**_ _[d_ _ɛn_ _ɪzən] n._

 _An inhabitant; occupant; resident_

 _(Government, Politics & Diplomacy) Brit; an individual permanently resident in a foreign country where he enjoys certain rights of citizenship_

 _(Life Sciences & Allied Applications / Biology) anything adapted to a new place, condition, etc., as an animal or plant not indigenous to a place but successfully naturalized._

 _(Linguistics) a naturalized foreign word_

 **June, 1999**

"So does this mean you've finally decided? There's no changing your mind about it?" Hermione Granger looked at her friend from out of the corner of her eye. "I'm sure you can get work that pays well even if you don't finish NEWT level at Hogwarts. I mean—you're Harry Potter for crying out loud. People will probably be begging you to work for them."

Harry Potter traced his forefinger around the rim of his cup of coffee, absent-mindedly.

It was after three o'clock in the afternoon and the street outside the café window was busy with cars, crawling past the business district of downtown London, congested with people of all ages who were hurriedly striding toward their destinations, unmindful of the presence of two people in their midst, who were about as different from them as mandrakes were from the average harmful fern.

But I would want to deserve any job I'm being offered, Hermione," Harry reasoned out in a matter-of-fact voice. "Most of the jobs that the Minister is making me consider require that I finish the NEWT level at Hogwarts."

A waiter approached their table and refilled Hermione's cup of coffee with a flourish and a whispered offer of further assistance, which Harry declined with a tight-lipped smile. Hermione forked a hefty serving of waffles from the plate in the middle of the table to the smaller plate right in front of her with a distracted air.

"I still think you should reconsider, Harry. I mean, for one thing, do you really want to work for the Ministry after all the things that they did to you?"

"The Ministry of Magic is different now. Shacklebolt has already started his reforms as Minister by whipping the people working there into shape. So if I'm going to accept the offer to work with them, I should really start thinking about improving myself, like finishing my magical education for starters. You, of all people, ought to understand," Harry toyed with the pot of sugar cubes by poking its contents with his spoon.

Since he got the first few job offers, he had already begun thinking about returning to school to finish his education. He had already written letters to the present Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall, expressing his desire to return for his NEWT year. In actuality, he had already formulated a decision to finish his schooling even before he set this meeting with one of his two best friends. And Hermione's doubts about his returning to Hogwarts weren't going to change anything.

"Well, it's your call, really," Hermione said. There was a still a hint of uncertainty in her voice, but Harry knew that Hermione meant it, leaving the ultimate decision of returning to Hogwarts to him.

"OK, what are you so worried about anyway?" Harry asked with a sly smile at his long-time friend.

Harry placed his hands with his palms against the light green silk table cloth of their little booth, separated from the other tables by polished oak dividers with quaint lamps on top that gave off a faint yellow glow. The early afternoon patrons of the café kept their conversations to a tolerable buzz, so that the light jazz music could be heard in-between the occasional laughter and tinkle of cutlery. Harry looked around momentarily at the people he didn't know around the café, but his gaze fell on his friend again.

With a hint of a teasing smile he said, "I'm now of age, Hermione, and I think it's already established that I can take care of myself. So you need not worry about me being bullied in school."

Hermione shook her head with a wry smile. "I'm just anxious, I guess. With hindsight, I should have poked and prodded you to come back to school at the same time as me if I had known you were hell bent on getting your NEWTs. It's just that—without Ron and me there, who's going to watch out for your back, Potter?"

"You knew why I couldn't come back to Hogwarts when you did, 'Mione. Besides the school wasn't even properly open when you came back to get your NEWTs! But yeah, it _is_ going to be weird to be back in school without you and Ron, but I think I'll manage," Harry joked back, hooking his forefinger around the handle of his coffee cup and bringing the cup to his lips for a long, languorous sip.

"Have you told Ron already?"

Harry set the cup down on its matching saucer and cleared his throat, stalling for time. "Actually… no, I haven't told him yet. Isn't he supposed to be really busy with the joke shop nowadays?" The bell hanging by the door tinkled and a group of boisterous teenagers entered with high fives and loud laughter among themselves, catching both Harry and Hermione's attentions for a split second.

"He's kind of busy helping George take care of things in the business, but I'm sure he would want to hear about your decision to return to school," Hermione replied with a wistful smile. She met her friend's clear, emerald green eyes and jerked her head towards the noisy group of newcomers. "Brings back a lot of memories, don't you think? We used to be ten times noisier during breakfast in the Great Hall or Hogsmeade weekends in the Three Broomsticks."

A smile broadened on Harry's face, and he nodded his assent. "Tell me about it. By the way, have you heard from any of the others?"

"Neville is taking his apprenticeship under Professor Sprout at Hogwarts, which means you'll get to see a lot of him while you're there. Dean—is working in Moscow for Gringotts as an auctioneer. I think he's been there for around four months now. Seamus…hmmm, I believe he's somewhere in Cape Town. He used to be a regular correspondent of Ron's, but he may have gotten busy with work lately. You will be glad to know that Luna is also considering going back to Hogwarts and repeating her sixth year. And you know that Ginny's going to be there, too," Hermione ticked off while spreading a generous amount of jam on her waffle slice.

"Since a whole horde of the old gang is going to be there at Hogwarts with me, there really is no need for you to worry." Harry turned his head to gaze out of the window, overlooking the street and distractedly scratched his right earlobe.

The two fell silent as they watched the different scenes unfold on the other side of the café window. Harry could tell that Hermione had fallen silent because she was trying to weigh her next words. "I know," Hermione finally replied, apprehension still tainting her tone. "But I guess worrying about you has become such a deep-seated routine, that it's difficult now to kick the habit."

The green-eyed boy cast his eyes downward, unwilling to meet his friend's eyes. They had already been through quite a lot in the course of their friendship, and he had not yet forgotten the sacrifices that Hermione had made to help him get through the worst of the war. Sometimes, Harry still blamed himself that he had been forced to share the weight of his cross with his friends, that they, too, experienced a dysfunctional adolescence because of him. Harry closed his hands into hard fists on his lap. He didn't know if he was supposed to say anything more to reassure Hermione or if he should apologize for the nth time for the continuing trauma he knew his friends were still suffering.

"Hermione— "

"Just promise me you'll stay out of trouble."

"I promise. What about you? When are you leaving?"

Hermione had received an offer to study in the Salem Witches' Institute for a Fellowship double degree in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. She was offered a three-year scholarship that was admittedly very hard to resist. Even Ron could tell that dissuading her was going to be a lost cause, which was probably the reason why Ron had decided to become a slave to his work in the joke shop—to keep from feeling miserable about Hermione's impending departure.

"In two weeks. But mind you, my being in the States is not supposed to deter you from writing to me regularly," she threatened.

"I'll write often, OK?"

A warm hand grabbed hold of Harry's, which he had already placed on the table between them, and clutched it as a drowning man would clutch at a lifeline. "I'm glad that you're moving on, Harry. And this is only the beginning of bigger and better things for us," Hermione assured him.

 _I hope so, Hermione. I sure hope so,_ Harry said inwardly.


	2. Chapter 1

**Wednesday, September 1, 1999.**

Harry Potter clasped his hands together to keep them from tapping against the frame of the window of the Hogwarts Express. After a while, he unclasped them again to shove them in the pockets of his jacket. He was anxious, but he didn't know why. Ever since he set foot in the train station, fingers of disquiet had already begun to take hold of his guts.

Platform 9 ¾ had not changed. Except for the sea of young faces that accosted him at the portal of the station, nothing had changed in the deep red locomotive from its slightly smoking chimney to its gleaming coupling rods, from the whistle issuing a warning of its imminent departure to the glass windows displaying half-eager but half-forlorn faces. Harry had tightened his grip on the handlebar of his trolley, willing himself not to feel like it was his first time riding the train.

As inconspicuously as possible, he had pushed his trolley toward the train amidst the continuously escalating whispers of the young people who had recognized him. He had realized then that maybe it would've been better if he had just made arrangements to Apparate to Hogsmeade instead. It was too early to have to deal with people gesticulating towards or rudely staring at him. But it was too late for misgivings. So he had bravely made his way to the scarlet steam engine, heaved his trunk onto the train and looked for an empty compartment before life could become too complicated.

The penultimate compartment was mercifully empty, so he had stowed all of his worldly possessions he had been able to stuff in his trunk and a beaten-up duffel bag in the compartment and locked himself in. None had tried to join him, thank Merlin.

But now, alone and anxious, Harry was beginning to doubt his decision about locking himself in to hog the compartment all to himself. He could do with some company.

The food trolley had already passed by twice, but Harry refused to open the compartment door to buy some food. He had not yet seen anyone from his year, but it didn't concern him much.

When his hands started to sweat, he took them out of his jacket pockets, crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his hands on his sides. What was he so scared of anyway? It hadn't been long since he had last been at Hogwarts. It had only been a little over two years. He bent over to scratch his calf, feeling the pressure of the Elder wand he had tucked in his sock, against his ankles.

He remembered talking with Ron and Hermione right after the war about returning the Elder wand to Professor Dumbledore's tomb. Ron had dissuaded him from relinquishing the wand, but Hermione had agreed with him that giving it up was for the best. He had had every intention of returning the Elder wand after having fixed his own with it, but Headmistress McGonagall and Minister Shacklebolt had advised him that the wand's power was very much needed to repair the immense damage that the Wizarding community sustained during the War.

More than the damaged infrastructure and property, the layers upon layers of magic that had concealed them and their world from Muggles since the International Statute of Secrecy had been instituted were on the verge of being unraveled toward the end of the War, and the power of the Elder wand had been needed—loathe as Harry was to admit it—to restore the various enchantments protecting their world.

So, in spite of his reservations about continuing to wield the Elder wand, he had retained possession of it upon encouragement from people he absolutely respected, and he had not had the opportunity to return the wand to Professor Dumbledore's tomb since.

As the master of the Elder wand, Harry had had little choice but to wield it himself to harness its power. But of course, it was another thing entirely to say that he was comfortable in wielding such a powerful instrument because he wasn't. He had never felt an affinity with the Elder wand as he did with his own wand, and was only too excited to return the wand to its rightful owner, Professor Dumbledore.

A shock of something pale yellow outside his compartment caught Harry's eye, snapping him out of his reverie. In the train's narrow hallway, right outside Harry's compartment stood Draco Malfoy. Harry knew that the shock in the blonde's gray eyes could only be matched by the unmistakable surprise in his green ones.

 _Draco Malfoy returns to Hogwarts as well, who'd have thought?_ Before Malfoy could scurry away, Harry reached to unlock his compartment and slid the door open in silent invitation to the newcomer.

"Are you sure it's wise for us to share the compartment, Potter? I don't think we've gone far enough from London to blow up the train without Muggles noticing anything," Malfoy said in his characteristic drawl. He made a show of cautiously looking around the compartment to confirm that Harry wasn't hiding a swarm of hungry, freshly-hatched Manticores that would eat him the moment he set foot inside.

Harry shrugged dismissively. "I'm not planning on locking us in the compartment. I am not that masochistic, Malfoy. You can always get up and leave if you'd rather stay in the hallway," Harry retorted, then averted his gaze to the passing countryside scenery.

Malfoy entered the compartment, slid the bulky rucksack off his back and transferred it to the shelf overhead. Harry watched the other boy from out of the corner of his eye. Malfoy wordlessly looked around the practically empty compartment, still unsure whether to take a seat or yank his stuff from the shelf and bolt out of there. "I'm the only one here. Those seats are free. Take your pick," Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest again.

"Not surrounded by your usual bunch of howling lackeys, I see," the blonde muttered after a period of curt silence.

Breathing a sigh, Harry nodded towards his reluctant companion, "I don't see your henchmen either. What—they couldn't find the train from the platform?"

Malfoy pursed his lips, but didn't answer with his usual biting remark. Harry noticed that the blonde just exhaled through the nose and purposefully avoided Harry's green-eyed gaze. _O-K, that's weird…_ Harry tried to recall the last time that Malfoy backed down from verbal sparring, but try as he might, he couldn't recall such an instance.

It was then, while they were avoiding having to deal with each other on purpose, that Harry studied Malfoy surreptitiously. The blonde was still dressed haughtily; there was still coldness about his gray eyes; his hair was still impeccably coifed but unlike before when he had exuded an air of pride and defiance, there was now an edginess to him in the way he was tapping his forefinger against his knee and the way his eyes were downcast and covered in uncertain shadows.

Though he looked so much healthier than when Harry had seen him last during Malfoy Senior's trial for crimes against the Wizarding community, there was an unmistakable residue of fear and wretchedness in Malfoy's gray eyes that Harry could remember from when Lucius Malfoy was condemned to be imprisoned in Azkaban for the duration of his natural life. Harry could remember seeing Malfoy's horror-stricken face and wide-as-plates gray eyes filled with the sadness of having to watch his family break apart right in front of him. Harry didn't think he could feel pity for Draco Malfoy, but at that moment, he could feel nothing else. After all, Harry knew what it felt like to have to watch the destruction of his life like a house of cards in a hurricane.

Which was why it was such a surprise to find Malfoy on his way back to Hogwarts. Harry didn't think the Slytherin had it in him to return to the place where the end of life as he knew it began.

"Stop looking at me, Potter," Malfoy said through gritted teeth.

"I'm not doing anything unlawful," Harry responded. He licked his lips that had gone dry and turned his head to watch the countryside they were zooming past.

 _So much for having some company,_ Harry thought.

After what felt like hours and Harry had already begun to doze off, the door to their compartment slid open. Harry jerked awake and found an unfamiliar student in Ravenclaw robes in the threshold. "Are you continuing students?" She asked, turning from Harry to Malfoy. Malfoy looked like he had just woken up as well. His light brown eyebrows narrowed in confusion.

"Continuing students?"

"Yes, as in were you enrolled the year before last—before the school took a one-year hiatus—and you intend to continue on to the next level this year?" She felt the need to elaborate.

"The last time I was enrolled was 1996," Harry said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I was enrolled that year before the War for my NEWT level but I'm repeating it. I—that year's curriculum was…insufficient," Draco answered when the Ravenclaw turned to him.

Harry snorted before he could stop himself from reacting. _Insufficient? More like perverse and sick!_ He inwardly retorted. Draco shot him a venomous glare.

"Here you are then—," she passed a purple envelope with gold cursive writing on the outside to each of them in turn. "A letter of instruction from the Headmistress to returning and repeating Hogwarts students," she said. "Be seeing you," she added for good measure before sliding their compartment door closed and leaving.

Sliding a finger in the envelope flap, Harry opened his letter and it read:

 _Attention: All Returning and Repeating Students_

 _The faculty of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry understands the present clamor of students and their parents for the continued quality education of our youth. Each and every one of the members of the School's faculty is in agreement that the goal to educate young witches and wizards further so as to avoid the pitfalls that brought about the last War and the near destruction of our World should be undertaken in the soonest possible time. In this aim, we are joined by the Ministry of Magic, under new leadership, and the International Magical Community_

 _We, therefore, welcome ALL students back to Hogwarts to start a fresh year and a new dawn in the Education Sector to match the change in paradigm also brought about by the last War._

 _However, seeing as a great number of our students are slated to return this year, continuing or otherwise, we have set up the following parameters for the guidance of our student body:_

 _1\. Returning, Repeating, Continuing and New Students –_

 _ **Returning Students**_ _– are those who were enrolled in any year level between 1993 and 1996 but who had to stop their education for one reason or another upon the approach of the last War and at present have decided to enroll in the year level they missed._

 _ **Repeating Students**_ _– are those who were enrolled for the 1997 academic year (prior to the War and the school's temporary closure) but have submitted letters of request for re-admission in the year level they were last enrolled for._

 _ **Continuing Students**_ _– are those who were enrolled for the 1997 academic year and, at present, intend to move on to the next (higher) level in their magical education irrespective of the interruption brought about by the War and the school's temporary closure in 1998._

 _ **New Students**_ _– are those who have just received their acceptance letters as first years and those whose parents have expressed desire to enroll their children (whether previously home schooled or educated abroad) in Hogwarts for the first time._

 _2\. Sorting –_ _ **ALL Returning, Repeating and New students are to undergo Sorting so as to evenly distribute the student body in all four (4) Houses.**_ _Otherwise, there will be many more students staying in some Houses more than the others, and the resources allotted to those Houses will be stretched to near breaking point._ _ **NO EXCEPTIONS, SPECIAL TREATMENT or ALLOWANCES are to be entertained by any of the faculty.**_ _ **The Returning and Repeating Students are hereby instructed to head to the Great Hall antechamber upon arrival to be Sorted into their new Houses.**_

 _3\. Prefects, Head Boy and Head Girl – all appointments made in the year before the hiatus shall remain in effect. Until and unless a student previously appointed cannot continue with their duties or expresses desire to relinquish their appointment, it is only then that a survey of all Returning and Repeating students who have been formerly appointed as prefects shall be made to fill any vacancies. The School shall maintain the 2-prefects-per-House and the one head boy-one head girl system._

 _Please be guided accordingly._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Headmistress_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Harry lowered his hands and the letter fell on his lap. _Sorting?! We are going to be re-Sorted?_ His eyebrows narrowed. He was already about to start on his seventh and final year at Hogwarts and there was a chance that he would not be staying in the same House he had been in since he entered the school! There was something disturbing about it that even Malfoy's mouth was slack in apparent shock. _And it's not very difficult to guess which House has the least number of returning students this year…_ Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in contemplation.

It was, of course, the most logical thing to do—re-Sorting. He could just imagine that with the sheer number of Gryffindors returning this year, they were probably going to sleep five to a bed in the dormitories and people were going to have to eat at the table in the Great Hall with someone else sitting on their laps!

"Whoever suggested that should have their heads examined," Malfoy, it seemed, couldn't keep his opinions to himself any longer. He viciously stuffed the letter back in the envelope. "Completely mental…" Malfoy kept on muttering.

Harry stared at Malfoy, folding his arms across his chest. "Scared that you might be re-Sorted into Gryffindor, Malfoy?"

"Believe me, there are only a handful of things worse, Potter—like getting your toenails pulled out before being hosed down with lemon juice," Malfoy grumbled. "Besides, I am much too smart and reserved to be put in the Gryffindor zoo. I can't belong anywhere else but in a House that cultivates wisdom and sophistication. Both of which, I am sure, you know nothing about, Potter."

Harry smirked. He couldn't, for the life of him, imagine Draco Malfoy in Gryffindor: dressed in Gryffindor garb, chatting with Gryffindor kids and sleeping in a four-poster adorned with red drapes. Although Gryffindors had never been cruel pranksters and snobs in the six years that Harry was one, he could just picture the kind of treatment someone like Malfoy was bound to get in Gryffindor territory.

Harry dismissively replied, "Yes, no doubt it would be to your interest to stay in your beloved Slytherin House." Uncharacteristically, Malfoy kept his mouth shut. But something alien and decidedly hard to read flashed in his gray eyes momentarily before he hastily averted his gaze. Harry could have been mistaken but it looked like self-doubt.

The train whizzed past expansive fields of wild grass, a brook, rolling hills and huge light gray and pink boulders wedged in dark brown earth, and tall oaks and conifers. The landscape became steadily more untamed as they headed further north. Though Harry was still aware of sharing the compartment with Malfoy, the tension was no longer as palpable as when Malfoy had arrived. The latter became absorbed in a paperback the title of which Harry couldn't make out from where he was seated.

The compartment door slid open a second time and the woman pushing the food trolley stuck her head in. "Anything off the trolley, dears?" Malfoy looked up from the book and wordlessly stared into the kind eyes of the trolley woman.

Each ended up buying cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties and a flask of ice-cold pumpkin juice. Harry also asked for some teeth-flossing mint on top of his other purchases. Malfoy returned to his book just as the trolley lady pushed away to the next compartments.

Tearing open the packaging of the nearest cauldron cake, Harry began to eat in silence. The cake was sumptuous and flavorful that the initial pangs of Harry's hunger subsided almost immediately. He was, all too soon, opening his next one.

Malfoy tucked the paperback away and reached for his pumpkin pasties with slightly furrowed eyebrows. He kept sneaking glances at the closed compartment door as if expecting someone, but he made no move to begin eating.

"Waiting for someone?" Harry asked, casually. He twisted the cap off the flask of pumpkin juice and took a long swig. He met Malfoy's eyes, anticipating an answer.

"With whom are you having a lover's quarrel, Potter: Weasley or Granger?" Malfoy asked. "Because I'd've thought your mates would be barreling in here by now."

Harry shrugged. "Ron and Hermione aren't returning to Hogwarts. I really am alone, Malfoy," he said. "Now would be the perfect time to call in your buddies and pummel me to the ground."

"Don't hold your breath, Potter. Because no one's coming."

It was Harry's turn to stare quizzically at the other boy. He thought that Malfoy only returned to Hogwarts to finish his magical education because he was going to be surrounded and guarded to the teeth by his Slytherin minions. It surprised Harry that Malfoy was actually courageous enough to return to school by himself. "I don't get it. If the stellar curriculum of two years ago was good enough for your _sophisticated_ and _wise_ Slytherin friends, how come it's not good enough for you?"

"Well, I wouldn't know what Crabbe thinks is good enough as he's _dead_. As for Goyle, he's in Amsterdam with his mother. He's moved on. I lost contact with Pansy and Blaise when the Ministry put me and my mother on house arrest while they were nosing about our business. _I_ don't have any other options. So I thought, what the hell," Malfoy spat, carefully tearing open the packaging of a pumpkin pasty. Malfoy was almost pleasant in divulging the whereabouts of his friends and his decision to return to school, so Harry just bobbed his head once in understanding and opened another cauldron cake without saying anything further. "So if the two-thirds of the Gryffindor Trio have moved on, why is its most popular member hanging back?"

Harry arched an eyebrow, challenging Malfoy to give an answer to his own question. But Malfoy just replied with a slight sneer. "I want to be able to boast someday that even for just one year, I was a normal kid," Harry said, almost like a whisper. "You know, just… worrying about the same things that other Hogwarts students worry about." A ghost of a smile grazed Harry's lips. "I want a semblance of the normality I've never had since I found out about the Wizarding World."

"Normal? What do any of us know about normal?" Malfoy asked, but it didn't sound like he was waiting for an answer. His voice sounded distant, probably considering his own demons that also kept him from having a normal life—well—as normal as teenaged wizards' lives could be.

Throngs of kids in black Hogwarts robes poured into the hallway outside their compartment. Harry distractedly looked at them—their excited and carefree faces, twinkling eyes and toothy smiles. Harry swore to himself then: he is going to have an extraordinarily ordinary year at Hogwarts this time around. Even if it kills him.

Standing up and reaching for his duffel bag to get his robes, Harry told his companion, "we'll be arriving soon; it's best we change into our robes."

###

Harry self-consciously smoothed the front of his black school robes and shoved the carriage door shut behind him. The ride from the Hogsmeade station to the sprawling driveway of the school was relatively uneventful. Most of the students he shared the carriage with were wide-eyed, slack-mouthed Hufflepuffs from the lower years, who would have only been too happy to poke and prod him like a half-dead Potions ingredient if he were the least bit accommodating with the way they were ogling at him the entire time. He just gave them small, tight-lipped smiles before he turned to the open window and tuned them all out. As answers to occasional questions, Harry gave short, direct and uncomplicated statements that the other passengers just had to be content with.

Looking up to the towering black turrets of the school, Harry drank in the familiar sights and sounds of his home for the six happiest years of his life. The grooved gray walls of the edifice shone silver in the feeble moonlight because it had just rained. Healthy fires, though, blazed in the iron torches by the entrance to the tunnel that led to the courtyard, on the far side of which stood the heavy wooden doors to the Entrance Hall. The crisp autumn winds from the mountains carried raucous chitchat and unrestrained laughter of the assembling students in the courtyard. Strange yodels and cries from the Forbidden Forest joined the cacophony of sounds, welcoming Harry Potter back to Hogwarts.

Breathing a sigh of excitement with a hint of apprehension, the hero of the last Wizarding War began to climb the gray stone steps to the mouth of the fire-lit passageway as more carriages deposited students on the driveway. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw students who were just coming out of their carriages, pointing and gesticulating towards him. Whispers about Harry's return fought with the whistling wind.

In the courtyard, while waiting for the heavy wooden doors to open, it became more difficult for Harry to pretend to be invisible as people kept walking up to him to shake his hand or pat his back. It very nearly took all of Harry's self-control not to drop to his knees and dig for a hole he could conveniently fall into. It _was_ going to be tough if not impossible to be just another, ordinary Hogwarts student unless he resigned himself to the option of going to class with his head in a paper bag.

"Hello Harry," a serene, otherworldly-sounding voice interrupted Harry's contemplation of putting a Glamour charm on himself every morning. Luna Lovegood, with her long dirty-blonde tresses, never-before-seen bright orange and quill-shaped earrings, necklace of yellow rubber bands, and an unperturbed smile on her face, stood before Harry.

"Luna!"

"Everyone seems to be happy to see you," she observed in a matter-of-fact tone. It was, as always, an observation that could have only come from Luna. Someone within earshot thought so, too and actually had a decency to snigger.

"Yeah," said Harry, who didn't really know what to say. He forced a good-natured smile for Luna's benefit.

The chatter died down as the huge wooden doors to the Entrance Hall slid open, giving a view to the brightly-lit and imposing Grand Staircase that led to the bowels of the castle. "I would like to have the attention of all returning and repeating students," Professor Flitwick called to the crowd. "I will supervise your re-Sorting. Please follow me."

A significant number of people broke from the courtyard crowd to follow the Charms professor into the smaller door adjacent to the portal to the Great Hall. Harry, keeping his head down, followed the crowd of returning and repeating students, and found himself bumping against someone else. "Watch it, Potter," hissed Malfoy, who was also doing his best to keep a low profile in the moving horde of people.

The anteroom was packed with what seemed like a little over two hundred students when Harry finally managed to squeeze himself in through the door, followed closely by Malfoy. The students were strangely quiet, waiting for Professor Flitwick's additional instructions. Although there was palpable tension regarding the re-Sorting, the students were somber enough to keep their opinions to themselves.

The diminutive professor made a show of unfurling a thick scroll that looked like it was half his weight and called out, "Abarth, Nicholas." The fire in the grate situated against the far side of the wall burned less bright as if in anticipation. "Once you've been Sorted, you are to proceed to the Great Hall and to your new House's table. No dillydallying!" Professor Flitwick said, placing the tattered Hat on Nicholas Abarth's head. Uncertain deep blue eyes vanished beneath the frayed edges of the Sorting Hat. Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths.

"Hufflepuff!"

Without meaning to, Harry felt his stomach constrict into stubborn knots. He had looked forward to returning to Gryffindor, sleeping in his red-draped four-poster, lounging on his favorite armchair, masticating by the tall tower windows that overlooked the lake that was bathed in moonlight. And now, there was a one-in-four chance of ending up in the bowels of the dungeon as a Slytherin.

He didn't want to think about it and invite the possibility of actually being re-Sorted to any other House, but he couldn't help it. The possibility of being re-Sorted to Slytherin in particular wasn't as agonizing as before; Severus Snape's character and capacity for love and courage had completely changed Harry's preconceptions about being a Slytherin. But he did have his heart set on spending his one normal year in Hogwarts as a Gryffindor.

The reactions of the students as the re-Sorting progressed were varied. There were sighs of relief, fist-pumping elation, gasps of horror, frozen disbelief, angry cussing and quiet resignation. Luna Lovegood got re-Sorted back in her old House as did a handful of other students, which strengthened Harry's hope that he might end up back in Gryffindor after all.

Soon enough, the people hanging back dwindled down. Harry met Ginny Weasley's searching brown eyes when she turned and offered a small smile of reassurance. Ginny was a couple of rows towards the front of the room, but even their distance from each other couldn't hide her anxious expression.

"Malfoy, Draco," Professor Flitwick called.

Harry tore his gaze away from Ginny and watched Malfoy shuffle to the front. Unlike the last time they were Sorted, Malfoy dragged his feet with uncertainty. He haltingly sat on the three-legged stool and clasped his hands together as the Hat was placed on his head.

Also unlike before, the Hat didn't shout its choice as soon as its edge touched the crown of Malfoy's blonde head. It took its time—almost as much time as when Harry was the one getting Sorted during their first year. Even Professor Flitwick did a double take at how long it was taking the Sorting hat to place Malfoy.

"Gryffindor!" The hat finally called. The buzz of whispered conversations in the room stopped abruptly. It was as if a spell was cast in the room, freezing everyone in place with their mouths wide open in stunned silence. Malfoy looked like he had been Petrified. Harry wanted to guffaw at the amazing coincidence, but his bewilderment was more powerful.

"Off you go, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Flitwick squeaked after he recovered for he, too, had been surprised at the Sorting Hat's choice.

Malfoy stood up and walked towards the door to the Great Hall, wordlessly, looking like a man who had just been given the verdict that he was to be garroted in an hour. Harry hazarded a guess that if Malfoy hadn't been too dazed, he would have ran amok. Their terse conversation aboard the train, about Malfoy being re-Sorted to Gryffindor, came back to Harry. It was one thing to joke about it and watch Malfoy's indignant response with amusement, but it was another to entertain the reality that Draco Malfoy—the archetypal Slytherin overlord-in-the-making, who had been born with nothing short of a Slytherin iron brand upon his ass, and whose ancestors had ruled over Slytherin possibly for centuries—was now going to don Gryffindor red-and-gold and walk amongst lesser mortals.

"Potter, Harry."

 _Here we go_. Harry gulped his nervousness and walked towards the three-legged stool and the Sorting Hat. The room fell silent again, holding their breaths and waiting for the Sorting Hat's choice for Harry Potter's new House. Although Harry had never told anyone apart from a select few that the Sorting Hat had wanted to place him in Slytherin in his first year, it remained to be seen whether this time, he would end up in the House of his defeated adversary, Lord Voldemort. After all, not a few blind-item columnists in _The Daily Prophet_ had hinted that Harry needed to be watched out for as the next Dark Lord, considering that he was powerful, charismatic and popular enough to be able to rally support and create a new regime. Harry refused to be baited by these people who lived to incite intrigue.

Darkness engulfed him as the edge of the Hat covered his eyes. The all-too familiar voice began to speak, " _Harry Potter, we meet again_ ," it said. " _Thank you, Harry Potter, for restoring me and in so doing, respecting the legacy of the Founders who created me and left me with the noble duty of placing Hogwarts students in the House where they will most_ _flourish,_ " the Sorting Hat continued.

 _You're welcome…err… Sir._ Harry replied in his thoughts. _Is it alright if I ask you a question? I've been meaning to ask you when the War ended but I never got around to it._

" _Ask away, dear boy._ "

 _When you wanted to place me in Slytherin before, was it just because you sensed a part of Voldemort in me or was it something else?_ Harry fidgeted, wary for the answer.

" _I did sense a Slytherin in you. If it was because you were a horcrux or because you just happened to have the characteristics that Slytherin valued and cherished most, I cannot be definite. Even now, I still believe that you would have done well in Slytherin. However, that doesn't mean that placing you in Gryffindor or any other House was, or will be, a poor choice."_

 _We all have the qualities that each of the Founders look for and strive to nurture, but the question was and always has been: where is the student going to learn more, inspire others better, become a more productive witch or wizard not only for themselves and their families but for our community? It was never about who you are when you have me on your head, probing through your thoughts; this is about who you can be—who you will be_ ," said the Sorting Hat.

 _Well, where do you think I need to be right now? If you think I'd still do well in Slytherin, are you going to place me there?_ Harry remembered Professor Dumbledore saying that it was his choices, more than his abilities and powers that would define where he belonged. He still wanted to be part of Gryffindor, but at the same time, he wanted to be where he was most needed, where he could do more good, where he could learn more about himself _. Is it possible that I had already learned all that I could from Gryffindor and that it was time to move on?_

" _That is, of course, always a possibility. But who has the power and the knowledge to be able to tell if you have already learned everything you could from your previous House? Me? You?"_ The Sorting Hat asked.

 _I suppose I can always ask you to put me in the House of my choice. But isn't that a bit unfair? Do the others know that they have a choice? Take Draco Malfoy, for example. I doubt he would have chosen to be placed in Gryffindor and yet you put him there! It would be unfair if I tell you where I want to go_ , Harry inwardly reasoned. He decided to defer to the Sorting Hat's better judgment as a first step towards his goal. If he was going to be a normal Hogwarts student, he should not have a hand in where he was supposed to go—just like everyone else.

" _If you wish to put it that way, Mr. Potter, I am placing you where you deserve to be… GRYFFINDOR!_ "

Harry wasn't aware that he was holding his breath, but when he heard the Sorting Hat's decision, he exhaled a sigh of veritable relief. He took the Hat off, nodded respectfully to Professor Flitwick, gave Ginny a meaningful look and strode off to the Great Hall to join the rest of the student body to officially start his seventh year in Hogwarts.


End file.
